The Half Mask
by Misa Sugar
Summary: Every person has another face, a side the public never sees. Loki knows this better than most - his very nature is riddled with dark secrets and a multitude of facades. But what of Anthony Stark? A man who so clearly shows that he has nothing to hide, who is so utterly candid and open... Well, surely a man like that must have the darkest secrets of all. Explicit FrostIron.
1. Kneel

MisaSugar: Hey there! Misa here. We're currently posting this fic on FF, but it will eventually be cross-posted to AO3 as well. This is honest-to-god pure PWP. That's ALL it is. I promise you, there is NO plot. It's two writers trying to impress each other and the resulting porn, for your pleasure.

That being said, we'll be covering an awful lot of kinks here, because we like kinks. Some of these kinks you may not like. Because of that, we'll be sure to slather each chapter with copious warnings if we feel you may be offended. Because this is honestly PURE PWP, you can just skip over the chapters that have stuff that squicks you, and still enjoy the rest of the fic. (See what we did there?)

On the other side of the coin, if you have a filthy secret kink that you're just dying to see in delicious Frostiron form, please do pitch it to us! There's a very, very short list of things we won't do, and it's basically comprised of killing either character (because then we wouldn't have a fic) or any sort of eye damage (because I'm scotomaphobic) so really, anything else? Throw it our way. We'll give it serious consideration. Unless it means seriously altering the storyline or fic's universe, we'll probably do it. (Like, if you ask us to make Loki into a six-year-old, that probably won't happen because continuity. And laws. XD)

SheSomeoneSo: Hey, I'm Lost. I'm rubbish with these authors notes, but Misa asked me to write one. Expect a lot more from us in the future. DEUCES

Misa: I'm the talkative one. :D

* * *

Fury leveled a skeptical, one-eyed glare at the pair of Asgardians cluttering up his hallway. "What do you _mean_ you can't get back?"

Thor shifted uneasily. "With the Bifrost destroyed, our father-" Loki snorted over his muzzle in defiance at the title, "-has only the strength to summon one of us home."

"You're telling me that we're stuck with one of you for an indefinite amount of time and there's nothing any of you so-called gods can do about it?" Fury looked ready to pop a blood vessel. Then again, he always looked like that.

Thor hung his head, looking for all the world like an oversized, unwanted puppy. "Until the Bifrost can be rebuilt, or another method of retrieval discovered, yes. Father already expended a great energy to send me here - he cannot bring us both back in his condition. Obviously, my brother must return alone. He must face Asgardian justice-"

"Oh hell no." Fury cut him off. "You think I'm sending an inter-dimensionally wanted criminal into the outer reaches of space, unaccompanied and holding _that_?" He pointed sharply at the Tesseract that Thor held to emphasize his point. Fury wasn't sure if 'inter-dimensionally' was a word, and if it was the right word if it was, but it sounded appropriate.

Thor paused. "He cannot stay here. He must face-"

"Look, Odinson, I don't mean to cut short your broken record track, but this isn't up for discussion. The Tesseract needs to be far out of our hands. It needs to be in Asgard, and only you can get it there. You go. He stays."

Thor looked ready to argue some more, but just then Tony Stark decided to make an appearance.

"Ah, you look busy, I'll just-" He crinkled his nose, in that satirical way of his, and moved to turn back the way he had come.

"Actually Stark, I was just thinking about you. How's that pretty tower of yours?"

Tony frowned, his eyes flitting over the two Asgardians as he answered, "Pretty as ever."

"Still the most secure building in New York City?"

"Likely the world." He said, grinning slyly, before the light left his eyes. "How long?"

"Not long, he would only need to stay there until he could be sent back to Asgard."

Thor's brow furrowed as he looked between the two humans. "Stay where?" He asked, but they paid him no mind.

"And how long do you suppose that's going to take? You ever heard that saying, Nick? A man's house is his castle?"

"You have a tower, Stark. A tower that happens to be the only place worthy to store a god for a couple of weeks..."

Fury watched as the man's features softened in defeat. "Does he have an overnight bag or something?"

"I'm sure you can take care of the necessities." Fury gave a rare, uncharacteristic smile, clearly glad that he'd successfully passed the buck. The problem of Loki Laufeyson was now out of his hands and into Stark's tower. "Thor, escort them back to Stark Tower before you take your leave."

Thor looked between the two of them, clearly still trying to catch up with what had just transpired. He was definitely too far behind to even attempt an argument. Loki fumed next to him, clearly not happy with being passed around so carelessly.

Tony turned toward the door. "Come on, Rapunzel, we have a tower to lock you in." He let out a whistle. "Mama Steve's not gonna be happy about this."

* * *

As it turned out, no, Mama Steve was _not_ happy about it.

"And you _actually_ agreed to this?" Steve asked for the five hundred and twenty-seventh time. "You actually agreed to_ this_?" Five hundred and twenty-eighth.

"Fury's orders." Tony repeated, for the four hundred and seventy-third time. He hadn't quite caught up to Steve.

"Horsefeathers." The seriousness of Steve's argument was completely lost when brought into contact with his outdated slang, but Tony didn't comment on that. "It's your tower, he doesn't have the right to tell you what to do with it. Normally you'd be complaining. Why _aren't_ you complaining? Why did you _agree_ to this?" Five hundred and twenty-nine.

"He's not causing any trouble. Gotta put him somewhere. I mean, I suppose we could always freeze him in a great chunk of ice. That worked for you."

"It's not safe bringing him here. It's like letting the enemy into your base of operations. Actually, that's _exactly_ what it is." Steve looked agitated. This was only the beginning, Tony knew. Every one of the Avengers was going to want an explanation. Not for why Loki was there, but for why Tony was _okay_ with him being there. What confused Steve was obviously Tony's complete lack of even trying to fight Fury on this. Well, he wasn't going to answer any questions on why he wanted Loki there. That was none of Steve's business.

Tony feigned an exhausted sigh. "Look, I don't want him here anymore than you do. But it's my problem for now, and if he wreaks havoc, then it'll be Fury's problem. Don't worry your pretty little head thinking about it, you might strain something."

Steve scowled, but he seemed momentarily placated, and dropped the subject. Now to go through the same spiel with the rest of them.

* * *

After making sure his brother was secure and comfortable in his new residence - or as comfortable as he'd be chained up in a small cell, lightyears from home - Thor pulled Tony aside for a moment.

"Man of Iron, I do not agree with this plan of action," he began, looking worried.

"I know, big guy, but this is what we've got to work with. Appealing to me won't get your brother home any faster." Tony clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly.

Thor shook his head. "I know I cannot change what has been decided. However, I know my brother. He will find a way out. And when he does, you will be in grave danger."

Tony chuckled. "Nothing I haven't dealt with before. What's he gonna do, push me out a window?"

Thor's face remained serious. "I do not want my brother to die, but I do not want my friends injured either." He held out a thin, leather-sheathed dagger. "Take this. In case you need to defend yourself."

Tony looked at the knife skeptically. "You're worried about me getting hurt, so you give me a letter-opener to defend myself with? You _have_ been present for all our battles with Loki, right? Somehow I don't think a butter knife is going to stop him."

Thor shook his head. "It is an ancient Asgardian artifact, and one of the few weapons resistant to my brother's sorcery. If you must protect yourself, his magic will be unable to block this blade, nor can it heal wounds left by it."

Tony looked at the dagger with renewed interest. "Oh, well, in that case..." He reached to grab it, but Thor's fingers clenched around it tightly.

"Before I give it to you, promise me, Man of Iron. Promise me you will not kill my brother with this weapon. Promise me you will never use it unless you must."

A wide smile graced Tony's features. "Don't worry, Blondie. The gazelle is safe here. I promise, we won't kill your brother."

Thor's features relaxed, his eyes trusting, and he let Tony take the blade, not knowing what he was dooming his baby brother to.

* * *

His cell was sound-proof; foot-thick glass reinforced with thick steel beams. At one side, there was a toilet and a showerhead with a drain two inches across set into the floor below it. Loki shuddered at the thought of having no privacy whatsoever. It had only been a few hours, and already his body was itching to escape. He looked out onto four empty white walls. Solitude was maddening.

What could he possibly do to escape? Even his infamous silver-tongue was trapped within his mouth.

His silver tongue... He grinned, as a thought struck him. _'Let's never forget the importance of body language.'_

He tugged experimentally on his chains. His wrists were cuffed together and chained to the floor in front of him, and a collar around his neck trailed another chain down his back, also bolted to the floor. He had enough slack to walk around the room, almost to the cell walls, but he still couldn't shake the feeling of being on a leash.

He sat down heavily, stretching out as much as the chains would allow, wondering when he'd next have the chance to put his plans into motion. He just needed Stark in his cell with him, just a brief moment of distraction, and he could be out of there as quickly as he'd walked in.

He knew it wouldn't be so simple, the Iron Man wasn't so easily fooled, but perhaps with the proper motivation his attention might slip. He made a small change, nothing too terribly noticeable. Though now his suit lacked an undershirt, and his pants were that much tighter. He laid there, as pathetically and helpless as he could, contemplating his moment and when it might come.

As it happens, his moment was delayed for several hours. Until after he'd fallen asleep and woken twice. He couldn't say for certain whether it was night or day, his cell without windows, or any means to keep time, but judging from the human's appearance, he had a good feeling it was late in the evening.

Stark entered the cell as if he lived there and Loki resisted the urge to glare at him. No privacy whatsoever, indeed. The mortal was dressed in comfortable black jeans and a black T-shirt, the glowing circle of light in his chest shining through the cloth. He smirked at Loki infuriatingly.

Loki watched him from the floor, contemplating how best to approach this man. Stark was intelligent, generally a step ahead of his enemies, and he adapted to unfavorable situations very quickly. But Loki was the God of Mischief, and he was far more clever than a mere _human. _

"What are you lying on the floor for? Get up." Stark looked around the cell he'd designed. "Mmm, have to put a cot in here or something..."

Loki slid to his feet slowly, hands trailing suggestively up his thighs as he rose, chains clinking, eyes locked on Stark's in a look that clearly said '_I know what I'd like to use that cot for...' _Stark raised his eyebrows in interest, obviously getting the message, and Loki smirked behind the metal muzzle that kept him silent. Oh yes, no mortal could possibly resist the advances of the God of-

"If you're trying to seduce me, knock it off."

Loki's triumph crumbled and he tried to salvage his annoyance by covering his scowl with a look of innocent confusion. Stark wasn't fooled for a second.

"Don't act cute and don't think I can't see what you're trying to do. Being seductive is my specialty. Your specialty is getting your ass kicked."

Loki glared at Stark with hatred, snarling behind the muzzle. Stark leaned over to pick up the chain that was connected to his collar off the floor, rolling the links in his hand thoughtfully as he gazed at his captive. "Now, now, let's have none of that. My tower, my cell, my rules." He jerked the chain just enough for Loki to yelp in surprise, but not enough to hurt. It earned Stark another glare, this time laced with a haughty condescension.

"They say we ridicule others for what we despise in ourselves." Stark smiled, slowly walking in a circle around Loki, almost appearing amused. "If I'm honest, I've felt that before. The need to destroy something because it showed me a reflection I didn't like. It's what you see when you look at us. At humanity."

Loki glared at him over his muzzle, eyes blazing with fury, just barely disguising a slowly rising panic. Stark only continued to smile.

He twisted the chain leash slowly around his hand. "What was it you said before? That we crave subjugation? That we were made to be ruled? And that, in the end, we would always kneel?" A sharp jerk backward had Loki emitting a muffled cry of pain, rage, terror, and a mortifying, betraying arousal. "Sounds intimately familiar, doesn't it?" Another twist and pull and Loki was struggling for breath, anger chasing fear through his veins as quickly as confusion was chasing his excitement.

"The truth is that it's not power you desire, Loki." His own name, hewn from the rough purr of Tony Stark's voice, was nearly drowned out by the pounding in his ears. He felt wonderfully and terribly dizzy. "What you desire is to be dominated, broken, and degraded in the filthiest ways you can possibly imagine." Loki choked, gasping for air as he felt his knees slam into the cement floor when a surprisingly strong hand forced him to the ground.

"The simplest truth, Loki, is that your greatest desire is to _kneel_."

* * *

We apologize for any OOCness, but we're not going to do anything about it. :D - Misa


	2. Search

Misa: Hey, it's Misa again! Before we go any further, I want to impress upon everyone that this story is complete FANTASY. A real Dom/sub relationship does NOT work like this, and follows the rules of safe, sane, and consensual play. We can assure you that this story will NOT stay within the bounds of safe, sane, OR consensual, so please please please, do not attempt to try any of this at home, on yourself or another person. This chapter is relatively safe, but some of the stuff planned for later chapters would probably kill you.

On to less-serious things- this story already has 40 alerts! Wow, guys, you're awesome! As for the reviews, there are currently seven, and I think our favorite of those was definitely the one left by RumorsMill: Yes, we fully agree with you there there needs to be more TopTony/BottomLoki out there! Personally, I just can't see Tony Stark as a bottom, ever. So we're really glad other people agree with us on this!

We have some awesome stuff planned, but if there's ANYTHING you want us to put in the story, please do let us know and we'll be more than happy to try and work it in if we can!

Lost: So pleased to be getting into the action! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. See something you like? Please, let us know. Not only does it motivate us to write more, but it lets us see we're not the only ones that like to watch Loki get abused.

Till next time.

* * *

Loki raised his glare to meet Stark's. He wanted to spit in the human's face, revile him until he shrunk under his gaze, strike him down with his godly strength, be pulled into his kiss as his clothes were torn from him, and Stark's nails were dug into his-

His face dropped suddenly, as his body betrayed him. His cheeks burning hot, and his pants growing tight. He made no motion to move, realizing he was in no position to demand respect. He was at the human's mercy, and he wasn't unaware of just how helpless he was.

Stark's smirk widened. "Subjugation suits you."

Loki turned his head sharply, glaring defiantly at his captor and snarling viciously into his muzzle. Awkward predicament or not, he _refused_ to go down without a fight.

Stark's smile stayed stiffly in place as he slammed Loki face-first toward the floor, twisting the chain leash to limit his air again. Loki barely caught himself in time to keep his head from hitting the ground, his hands scraping raw against the rough cement floor.

He coughed and gasped for breath, his lips tingling and his eyes watering as he choked. He felt a throb of heat and subconsciously pulled against the collar, choking himself more so the heat would intensify. It did, and he felt dizzy with excitement and oxygen deprivation. One bleeding hand had found its way between his thighs without his permission, and was pressing against his arousal. The other barely held him off the ground, confined by the short length of the chain between them. It was an awkward and unbalanced position, made more precarious by the trembling of his body that he had only just noticed and couldn't quite control. It didn't take much effort for Stark to push him all the way over with his foot and Loki hit the ground with his shoulder and cheek with a muffled cry of pain. '_Way to go down without a fight, Loki,' _he thought, disgusted with himself.

Stark chuckled. "Look at you. The great and powerful Loki, who would have ruled the Earth. And here you are, a quivering ball of arousal from nothing more than a little asphyxiation. Pathetic."

The white-hot humiliation scalded Loki, but not in the way he expected. An uncontrolled whimper escaped from beneath the muzzle. He felt extremely confused, and very, very turned on.

Tony gave a yank of the chain, mockingly, and he kneeled down to take hold of the restraints around Loki's wrists. Loki's chest heaved exhaustedly, but his eyes opened wide as the human jerked his hands towards a hook on the floor, latching Loki's cuffs securely, allowing only a small gap between his skin and the cold concrete. He laid there, still catching his breath, attempting to get his erection under control. Confusion must have been blatant on his face, before he could ask, Tony gave him the answer.

"I don't trust SHIELD's security standards." Stark mused, eyeing Loki critically. "I'll have to perform a body cavity search." He unlatched the metal muzzle, letting it clatter to the floor.

Loki's eyes widened in horror, spitting out the taste of muzzle. "A what?! Why?!"

"To check you for dangerous weapons or contraband."

"That's completely unnecessary and you know it!" Loki snarled angrily, trying to disguise his panic.

"Against the God of Mischief? I don't think so." Stark pulled a pair of latex gloves from his pocket, clearly prepared for this.

Loki pulled at his chains, trying to move as far from Stark as possible. "Those were in your pocket, they aren't sanitary!" He was grasping at straws, he knew, but surely _something_ would make Stark realize what a terrible idea this was.

Stark chuckled as he pulled the gloves on with a condemning _snap_. "These are for my hygiene, not yours. I don't intend to soil my hands with your filthy body."

Loki growled at the insult, even as it sent a throb of hot shame an awful lot _lower _than he would have liked. "I am a _god_, mortal! My body is more pristine than-"

His words were cut off when Stark grabbed his jaw, examining him. "Let's start with the oral cavity."

Loki twisted in his grasp, furious. "Put your fingers in my mouth and I'll bite them off!"

Stark picked up the chain that trailed on the floor. "Be grateful that I'm starting with your mouth, rather than finishing with it," he replied darkly, and shoved the metal links between Loki's teeth, preventing him from biting down.

Loki let out an animalistic sound of protest, jerking and pulling to escape. Stark grabbed him more firmly, fingers digging painfully under the back of his jawbone while his thumb held the chain links in place. He thrust two fingers of his other hand into Loki's mouth and the god choked, spitting on the taste of metal and latex. The fingers ran between his teeth and cheek on both sides, creating a sensual tickling that made Loki squirm and make undignified noises.

Stark's fingers twisted around his tongue in a way that was certainly sexual, as it would have done nothing to locate any hidden contraband. Loki couldn't help the sound that escaped his throat, but he still hated himself for making it. He was being violated in the worst way, and yet he was getting off on it. Surely there could be nothing else in this world that would be more mortifying for a king of gods. He began to twist in Stark's grasp, trying to pull free. This only succeeded in causing Stark to plunge his fingers deeper, eliciting a shameful moan from his captive. Loki ground his teeth against the chain links, furious at his own weakness.

Without warning, Stark thrust his fist into Loki's mouth, forcing his fingers into his throat. Loki choked, his eyes watering as his abdominal muscles contracted, trying to eject the unwelcome intrusion. He pulled back, squirming and making noises of desperation. Stark held him firmly, not letting up until the noises changed from distressed to pleading. Momentarily satisfied with the proud god's degradation, Stark finally let go and Loki fell to the floor, coughing and gasping.

He waited for Stark's inevitable snarky comment, but it didn't come. Perhaps the mortal knew that it was unnecessary, as the sounds of agony and arousal Loki himself was making were already more humiliating than anything Stark could have come up with.

Or perhaps he was simply preoccupied, as his hands were on Loki's hips now, pulling them up from the floor. Before the god was able to utter his cry of protest, his pants had been jerked down unceremoniously. In an earlier time, Loki might have cried out to Odin, but now, with no loyalty or respect for any higher power than himself, he knew no name to call but that of his tormentor.

"No, Stark! Please, don't!" Loki felt sick at the sound of his own pathetic, rasping plea. What was his pride now? What had it ever been?

Stark's voice held a light, mocking chuckle. "Most people would call out to their god, wouldn't they?" His latex-wrapped fingers, slippery with saliva, pressed unforgivingly against the Asgardian's entrance. "Do you think of me as your god already, Loki?"

"I will never think of you as anything but scum!" Loki snarled in return, feeling he might retain at least a scrap of his shredded dignity. That illusion was shattered when two fingers were forced deeply into him, ripping a tormented cry from his damaged throat. Any saliva that may have coated them seemed to be absorbed instantly by his body, leaving them torturously dry as they twisted in him, pressing, thrusting, searching. Loki hadn't even realized his wails of pain had blended with moans of pleasure, agony and ecstasy coiling viciously together in the most intoxicating way.

Blissful, he hardly noticed the hand that slid down his hard length, toying with the head, until one finger attempted to force its way in that direction. He let out a shriek at the blossom of pain that enveloped him until it dragged him to an even higher level of euphoria, arousal throbbing through his whole body. _Now_ he was truly being violated in the worst way, and _now_ he couldn't possibly have cared less. He was gasping unintelligible words of praise and pleasure and pleading all at once. He was so, so close, any second now-

Without warning, the fingers pulled free and the hands vanished, letting him fall to the floor a second time. He stared up at Stark in confusion as the man pulled off his gloves.

"No hidden contraband? I'm surprised at you, God of Mischief." Stark chuckled, amused at the other male's expression.

Loki felt a surge of anger, for all the wrong reasons. Seconds from what would have probably been the most intense orgasm of his life, and this mortal had the audacity to _stop_? "How _dare_ you?!"

"How dare I what?" Stark smirked. "Pull out before you were able to get off?"

"No!" Loki bluffed furiously, glaring at the human. "Don't flatter yourself, mortal! I am a _god_! I have _dignity_!"

"Yeah, well, you compare that godly dignity to the erection you're sporting and tell me which one is harder when I get back." Stark strolled to the door. "I don't have any more time to play with you today. I have a dinner date with Lady Liberty." He smirked, waved at the furious god and walked out of the cell without a backward glance.

* * *

It was almost midnight when Tony arrived at the restaurant, a place that was expensive enough and open late enough to suit his quirks. He wasn't terribly concerned with keeping Steve up late - the supersoldier wasn't much of a sleeper anyway. However, he didn't look pleased with being kept waiting.

Steve was irked, to say the least, when Tony breezed in casually. The star-spangled hero noticed him before their eyes met. So, sitting up straight, he glanced at the menu in front of him, playing coy. His lips pursed annoyed, and looked at his watch, as if he hadn't yet noticed the billionaire.

Tony wasn't fooled. He was used to standing up dates, and the different levels of pissed-off that came with it. He slid into the seat across from Steve with a smile. "Miss me, Princess Patriotic? You seem upset."

Steve glanced up, raising his eyebrows. "You're late." He took a sip of his untouched water, his feet shuffling slightly under the table.

"Fashionably." Tony ordered something much stronger than water from the cute waitress, who he didn't bother to resist flirting with. "I like eating late."

Steve scowled, as annoyed by the flirting as by the comment. "Then you should have told me to meet you later."

"And risk you rejecting me in favor of getting your beauty sleep? Ridiculous. I'd much rather just make you wait, because I know you will." Tony smiled playfully.

Steve shook his head. "I wouldn't have waited much longer."

Tony snickered. "Oh, were you just on your way out?"

Steve huffed, and continued to look at the menu, his cheeks slightly flushed. "I've been ready to order for hours," he mumbled.

"Exactly." Tony eyed his menu. "You could have ordered without me. I wouldn't have minded, it's not like we're on a date."

The cute waitress returned with his drink, smiling politely. "Are you two gentlemen ready to order?"

"Sure thing. I'll take the surf and turf and for dessert, I'll have you." Tony flashed his playboy smile at the girl.

To her credit, she didn't blush, but she did look a bit flustered. "I'm not for sale, sir."

"To me, I think you would be." Tony smirked wider and the girl broke eye contact, turning to Steve and asking for his order, blatantly ignoring his table-mate.

Steve was bright red. He couldn't even begin to apologize for Tony's arrogance, but he tried his best to order quickly, so the girl could get out of there. "Two orders of lasagna, an order of the swedish meatballs, and a side of garlic bread. The lasagnas come with a salad?" Her eyes were wide as she nodded. "Excellent, then on my salads I'll have Italian, please." He smiled pleasantly as he handed her his menu. "Thank you, so much." As she left he turned an annoyed gaze on Tony.

"Man, you really are a piece of work." He shook his head, turning his eyes away.

"What?" Tony smiled innocently. "She was cute and I'm Tony Stark."

Steve glared viciously at him. "Why did you ask me here, Stark? You call me here for dinner, show up hours late, and hit on the waitresses. What's the point of all this?" His cheeks were burning hot. He sat back in his chair, not realizing how upset he'd gotten.

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Jealous?" He chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. "Careful, Rogers. I might start to think you like me." He batted his eyelashes 'flirtatiously'.

"No!" He said a bit too loudly. The restaurant wasn't exactly full, but being the big apple, wasn't dead either. A few curious eyes glanced their way. He put his head down, as he took a sip from his water glass. "Don't be ridiculous..."

Tony watched him critically. He wasn't a fool, he knew when someone had something to say that they didn't _want_ to say. And the only thing he could think of was...

"You _do_ like me, don't you?" Ah, shit. There goes his mouth before his brain can catch up. It happens all the time, but it's usually harmless, even hilarious. This time, maybe not. Tony braced himself for the potential collapse of their friendship.

Steve's eyes got wide, and his cheeks reddened even more. "LIke you? Pfft. You're a... guy." He shook his head, and took another sip of his water. He cleared his throat and changed the subject quickly. "How's the god adjusting?" He sneered as he said it, his cheeks still flushed.

Tony exhaled. Of course Steve didn't look at him that way - most people had a gender preference, even if Tony didn't. Then again, the way he was blushing... No, nope, Tony wasn't gonna think about it. Putting their friendship on the line once in a night was enough.

He focused on Steve's question instead. "Loki? Oh, he's fine. I think he was a bit put-out by the body cavity search, though." Tony chuckled.

Steve laughed lightly. "He gives me the impression he'd like something like that." He shook his head, and looked up at the man, a slight smile still on his lips. "You really should be careful though. All jokes aside. He's dangerous, and I'm sure has plenty of tricks up his sleeve."

Tony chuckled as their food was set down on the table in front of them. "Don't worry about me, old man. I've got plenty of tricks up my sleeves as well."

* * *

Hope you enjoyed that - we'd love to hear from you if you did! (And we'd really love to hear about all the things you want Stark to do to Loki in the next chapter! ;D) - Misa


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